Dirt Box Disco – Immortals

UK punksters Dirt Box Disco have this enviable knack of unleashing something inescapably fresh with every record whilst retaining a trademark sound which makes the band one of punk’s most individual propositions. It is a success which is not only repeated with their new album but escalated for their finest moment to date.

Immortals is the sixth studio album from the Midlands hailing quintet and comes with more twists and turns than a swatter hunted fly in a cream cake shop. From song to song it romps with various shades in the spectrum of punk and rock ‘n’ roll; pop, old school, hardcore, and many more voracious hues embraced and given the DBD creative deviancy. It has proven near to impossible to settle on our favourite thirty DBD songs to date let alone choose a top ten but right now you can expect plenty from Immortals to feature in both.

Album opener Ready Or Not is a declaration of their return, though their ravenous live hunger ensures they are never far from a town near you and that they have more of the goodness and madness which has made the band one of punk’s essentials. It’s opening rally of beats and string of la-la-las signal prime DBD is here and eager to get us all bouncing and roaring. Manipulative catchiness has always been swift enslavement in the band’s sound and simply virulent within the first throes of the first song. The rousing incitement of vocalist WEAB.I.AM quickly works its persuasion, its ‘lock up your daughters ‘n’ hide the loot’ message a warning and promise of their insatiable sound and intent.

Its irresistible punk ‘n’ roll is followed by the just as ravenous pop punk lusting of Teenage Lovestruck Blues; a wonderful confusion of sixties, seventies, and modern punk and power pop honed into one swinging stomp ripe with riffs and hooks uncaged by Spunk Volcano and Danny Fingerz in collusion with a tangle of vocals and harmonies. As its predecessor, it unerringly hit the spot as too the melodic seducing of You’re The Only One For Me. It opens with the nervousness of a first date before hitting a confident stroll with the beats of Maff Fazzo the pump to its instinctive excitement of song and romance. Deadbeat Chris’ growling bass is a perfect contrast to the infectious double prong vocal lure, the song sharing gentle incitement fuelled caresses to stir eager involvement from those around and indeed listening.

A whiff of old school lines next up Caveman.com, the excellent feral stomp something akin to The Vibrators meets Turbonegro but distinctly DBD while Stop Shouting similarly taps into seventies punk for its core hook and riffery, draping it in the band’s inimitable anthemic rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Only the deaf could evade its physical and persuasive holler though even Fazzo’s incisive rhythms could probably stir their senses. Both tracks get body and spirit bouncing though maybe not as hungrily as 11th May or the following Mummy’s Boy. The first jabs and harries with beats and riffs, vocals commanding participation as the body throws itself around to the sounds while its successor flies through ears with seventies punk ferocity and DIY aggression to stir even greater involvement.

Done & Dusted is the kind of arousal you might expect The Pirates to come up with if starting out now, their own style of punk and rock ‘n’ roll an echo past of the contagion DBD seemingly effortlessly conjure. Like so many tracks it steps in, lays an instant creative glove on ears and has the body dancing to its whims before leaving at its height of temptation.

Box Of Tapes mixes hard rock and metal with its punk heart, the track a raucous compulsion for ears and appetite before Mirror Mirror shares its reflective croon with energy and tenacity, again hooks spun recalling some of punk’s glory days but revelling in their creator’s own modern uniqueness.

Rock ‘n’ roll comes no more masterful and incendiary than in the riotous charge of Box Set Addict; its raw urgency and attack infused with one delicious bassline and riveting sonic enterprise. The track is superb but still eclipsed by the album’s finest moment, Joyce’s Voices. The initial lure of haunted guitar is a tease of the unpredictable from which melodic infection winds around ears as WEAB.I.AM introduces the spirit guesting world of Joyce. Everything about the song is captivation, rock music which has body, voice, and appetite wrapped around its inventive fingers whilst reminding of people we have all come across in presence or legend.

Immortals leaves as sonically vociferous and rowdy as it began with firstly Pint Kamikaze Jaeger Smash, a sing-a-long bruising and stomping, and lastly through the attitude hurling Shut The Fuckin’ Door. The pair just epitomise the adventure and addiction brewed by the album, the first a lung bursting incitement with its companion a middle finger raising riot woven from various thick threads of rock ‘n’ roll and both reasons alone why DBD are so revered and greedily followed.

With every release Dirt Box Disco evolve, uncaging something new each and every time yet they never deviate from their insatiable honest sound. It is a skill and craft which sets them apart, keeping fans deliriously stomping and the band at the head table of punk rock.

Immortals is released April 27th via STP Records with an Ltd Ed vinyl version released July 28th.

http://www.dirtboxdisco.co.uk    http://www.facebook.com/pages/DIRT-BOX-DISCO/129060477115572    http://twitter.com/dirtboxdisco

Pete RingMaster 30/03/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Tuesday Club – Art Is Magic

Trials and turbulences are no strangers to most bands but few as acute as that which impacted on British outfit The Tuesday Club and almost brought it to an end. Now though they are poised to release “unlikely album 3” in the shape of Art Is Magic, a slab of multi-flavoured rock ‘n’ roll which certainly gets under the skin in no time but an itch which just gets more delicious and addictive by the listen. It is their finest moment built across ten bold devilish tracks embracing old and new sounds with a unique imagination and their inimitable touch.

Formed in 2011 in Walmington-on-Sea, the renowned setting for British legendary comedy Dad’s Army, The Tuesday Club was an eight piece extravaganza of sound and creative revelry embracing the sights and mischief of their home town’s TV heritage. Their sound blossomed with the punk nurtured DIY attitude and inspiring sounds of the late seventies yet from day one cast its own aural image as proven by debut album See You Next Tuesday in 2013. It was a proposition though which was evolving from that first release and in open exploration by the band’s second album which was released as a quadrilogy of four EPs.

Devastation hit after the release of the first EP when drummer Terry Super Cockell tragically died. Though the band completed the album’s unveiling it was obviously without zeal; as they say the following EPs released in a ‘daze’, with the band falling to its knees and closing in on demise as members subsequently left. It was a challenging, life questioning and changing time which was not so obvious to the outside world at the time such the quality of those releases but maybe now best understood by checking out Reverse Family’s current project 365 days of songwriting, the band the solo project of TTC’s founding member Andreas Vanderbraindrain though he goes by Dermot Illogical for it. It is a still on-going colossal collection of tracks written across those times released as an EP a week for a year, many of its songs spawned from the darkness he personally fell into through those times.

TTC did survive though, its remaining members regrouping and finding a new breath and energy, stripping away “much of the old ‘glamour’ replacing it with a new urgency and directness.” Alongside vocalist Vanderbraindrain, the band now consists of guitarist Dave Worm, bassist/keyboardist Rogerio Marauder, and drummer Blairdrick Sharpely. As they suggested, the quartet has stripped back the TTC sound and brought forward its raw breath and instinctive imagination whilst broadening yet honing its creative flavourings and adventure.

Art is Magic opens with its title track, slipping in on a rhythmic coaxing until a lash of sound sparks a post punk lined stroll led by Vanderbraindrain’s distinctive tones. The song prowls the senses, keys simultaneously providing a melancholic yet mystique lined caress; it all uniting in an infectious swing and call to join its arcane devilry. Captivation was swift and only escalated as the track tempted and teased with its seventies lent enterprise.

It is a thickly potent start to the album keenly backed by the poppier rock exploits of Always taking things too far. It bounces around like a mix of Athletico Spizz 80 and Mammal Hum, a fusion of new wave and art rock which poked the appetite initially, whetted its lips further before thereon in fully teasing eager greed by the listen. It is a trait of the album as a whole, making an attention grabbing first impression but spawning lustier reactions by the play though some songs like Soulless City Syndrome had us instantly drooling. Its opening noir tinted intimation simply nurtured intrigue, the following electronic and tenacious punk ‘n’ roll of the song sparking the passions as it cantered lustfully through ears. The best track on Art is Magic, it twists and lures like an Adicts meets Zanti Misfits inspired dervish wearing a cape woven with threads of The Monochrome Set for one unique and gorgeous encounter.

It is a hard task to follow such a pinnacle yet Fruit Salad Girl with its spiky pop rock makes relatively light work of it, the infection loaded romp a nagging rock ‘n’ roll roar which had the body bouncing and vocal chords blaring in no time before Drowning My Sorrows allowed a breath to be taken with its folk pop saunter. Not that it is a dormant on the catchiness, its easy going but boisterous swing leading feet and hips away like a collusion of The Farmer Boys and Swell Maps.

Put your Faith in what you can control similarly has a laid back but tenaciously catchy gait and demeanour, again the band’s lo-fi instincts breeding a richly appetising temptation as rhythmically persuasive as it is melodically and lyrically sharp. Thus eager involvement was swift and as forcibly recruited by the bolder rousing punk ‘n’ roll of We are the Team, a song which is the band announcing they are undefeated and returning with new vigour and invention whilst creating a personal declaration for all to embrace.

It would be a shock not to have the scent of early Adam and The Ants somewhere within a TTC encounter, Let the kids run the country the irresistible moment within Art Is Magic as the band source their own earlier traits and another influences’ for a greed brewing slice of aural virulence before the darker tone and shadows of Rock and Roll’s not a science infests ears and psyche like a viral infection you cannot shake off, or in this case want to. The song reminded of short lived Welsh punks The Table at times but again TTC spin a web of sound and addiction all their own.

The album concludes with Who and youz army, a rhythmically tenacious and infectiously barbed slice of punk rock which would have aroused air punching crowds back in the day just as now. Its hooks are familiar yet inescapable and its character old school with the irritability of today; ingredients ensuring Art Is Magic goes out on a major high.

Listening to their album just hits home what we would be missing without The Tuesday Club and how lucky newcomers will be now discovering them through such a glorious romp.

Art Is Magic is released May 6th with its launch party the same night @ The Lower Red Lion in St. Albans pre-ordering available now @ https://theperfectpopco-op.bandcamp.com/album/art-is-magic

http://thisisthetuesdayclub.co.uk/    https://www.facebook.com/thisisthetuesdayclub/   https://twitter.com/thetuesdayclub1    https://twitter.com/Vnderbraindrain

Pete RingMaster 30/03/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright